Not a trivial pursuit

Students in the hallowed halls of the Woodrow Wilson School are forming plans to end world hunger, others in Fisher are pondering how to save Social Security and in an organic chemistry lab still others are preparing to heal the world.

I'm a classical archaeology major; in other words, I sit around thinking about dead people. At first glance it would seem that compared to those listed above I am involved in an impractical and senseless academic pursuit. And sometimes I agree. There are late nights when I'm sitting at my desk trying to translate a Greek inscription and in a fit of rage cry out (albeit silently), "What's the point? Who cares? How am I helping anyone or doing any good for society with this stuff?"

In my more lucid moments, though, I am convinced of the value of academic — and might I say purely academic — pursuits. I am thrilled that we have future politicians, economists and medical doctors at Princeton, but those involved in what might be considered impractical or even pointless areas of interest are not shooting themselves in the foot and, if they continue in their pursuits, hold an important and often overlooked place in society.

When I tell people my major, they most frequently ask, "What on earth are you going to do with that?" This question is completely off the mark because it assumes that you must be learning some tool which you can directly apply to a future career. People should instead ask, "How will it affect you, your mind and your outlook on life?"

The pursuit of knowledge for the sake of knowledge will develop your mind. Forgive the analogy, but your brain is very much like a muscle. Working on it in one area can directly benefit another.

Developing your thought process and learning how to research, write and present your ideas in one field will contribute to any other to which you may turn.

More importantly, seemingly impractical majors will develop an attitude of inquisitiveness. In most academic fields there are no definite answers to the questions asked and the riddles presented. You begin to learn to view things from every angle possible, to find evidence where it didn't seem any existed and to never accept something as a given. The insatiable desire to understand and explain, which is fostered in academia, will benefit just about anyone anywhere.

For those of you planning on continuing in the pursuit of the "impractical," congratulations, you are part of a noble cause. Countries have measures of economic output, military size and trading levels, but they can't accurately measure a country's level of knowledge — its output of thoughts and ideas. This factor should be considered just as important as the others, for the number of people in a country concerned with understanding and explaining man and his surroundings is an indication of that country's well-being and level of civilization.

Up to this point I have been generalizing and referring broadly to the pursuit of knowledge. Each different area of academia, though, has very practical applications. I, for one, study the Greeks. Now if you stop and think about it, they really didn't live that long ago and aren't as removed from us as you might think. They too lived and died, walked and talked and had desires and dreams. How can you expect to understand contemporary civilization without knowing its roots? Would you think you knew someone without being aware of his family background?

I am constantly under the impression that much of what we pursue is, in the grand scheme of things, rather meaningless. If you get your kicks out of Celtic mythology and don't want to explain your motivations to an economics major, then don't. Life is short and the amount of knowledge to absorb is daunting. Think, ponder, wonder and pursue learning, either to help you somewhere else down the road or merely for its own sake. Long live the Greeks. Nathan Arrington is an art and archaeology major from Westport, Conn. He can be reached at arington@princeton.edu.